Shipping and Handling
by erindarroch
Summary: Seven months after the Battle of Yavin. Human resource management is proving more difficult than Leia anticipated. Part of the Kismet series. Co-authored with Sue Zahn (suezahn). Han/Leia HSLO
1. Chapter 1

**Shipping and Handling**

 **by Susan Zahn and Erin Darroch**

-:¦:-:¦:-:¦:-

"Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow ripening fruit." – Aristotle

-:¦:-:¦:-:¦:-

 **NOTE:** This story is part of the _Kismet_ series. It takes place approximately two months after the events of _Vested Interest_ , so you may wish to read that one first (or check the profile for **suezahn** to view the reading order for the entire Kismet series).

 **Thanks** to YellinYee for beta reading.

 **Chapter 1:**

"General Rieekan, we have incoming."

Leia Organa's head snapped up as those words reached her ears, and she was on her feet and following Carlist Rieekan to the Comms station before she even realized what she was doing. Although the planet of Serricci where their current hidden Rebel base was located was far from any well-traveled space lanes, the appearance of a single, relatively small ship at the fringe of their long-distance sensor range wasn't reason enough to warrant more than a close watch. Realizing she was the only one present displaying a strong reaction, she slowed her pace and stopped at the Intelligence Liaison station nearby.

As she watched, the Comm Tech, Lieutenant Brimler, indicated an item on his display. "Light freighter. Just dropped out of hyperspace in sector two."

"Identification?" Rieekan prompted.

"She hasn't responded yet, sir, but she's alone. And her vector indicates she's heading our way. I'd say it's one of our contractors, but so far we've had no confirmation. Transponder is dark and she's not observing protocols."

Leia drew a deep breath and let it out with a sigh, allowing her shoulders to sag with relief for just a moment.

 _Dodgy transponder and not following protocols? It must be the_ Falcon _._

There were only a handful of independent contractors employed by the Alliance, all of them privately owned freighters whose captains, for one reason or another, chose to undertake short-term contracts rather than to join the Rebellion outright. Such arrangements were fraught with security concerns and, as a consequence, only those few whose loyalties were beyond question were employed on that basis. Han Solo and Chewbacca were among that number.

Leia exchanged a silent glance with Rieekan, as they waited for confirmation. The Alderaani general was the new Commander of the base they'd established seven standard months ago deep in the equatorial jungles of Serricci, following their first major victory in the war against the Empire. He was Leia's close personal friend, but he had also developed a genuine fondness for the Corellian captain and his Wookiee co-pilot.

There was a chirp from the Comms station. Lieutenant Brimler put a hand to his earpiece and listened intently for a moment, then reached forward to key in a sequence on his console. "Code's coming through now, sir. Stand by."

Leia held her breath. It had been three days since they'd received a ciphered transmission from the _Millennium Falcon_ —just a short text sent by Chewbacca—indicating that the _Falcon_ 's current mission in the Onderon system had run into difficulties. There had been no indication as to the cause, and they'd had no word from the pair since then.

There was a faint beep from the communications console as the incoming code transmission was received. Brimler looked up at Rieekan, then cast a quick glance in Leia's direction.

"It's the _Stellaria_ , sir."

Leia's stomach clenched, and she gripped the back of the Intel station chair to stop the trembling of her hands. Lifting her eyes to Rieekan's, she saw her own worries reflected there, but the older man offered her an encouraging smile.

"I'm sure we'll hear something soon, Princess."

Leia nodded stiffly. "Of course. And I'm pleased to see that Captain Angepeo has returned safely from Carratos."

Ensign Lumey, one of Leia's operations assistants, crossed the small control room and approached Leia's position. "Shall I meet the _Stellaria_ , Your Highness?"

"No, thank you, Ensign," Leia said with a tight smile. "Just dispatch Officer Tibbert with a double trolley and a repulsor lift to see to the cargo, and I'll meet the _Stellaria_ myself."

A few minutes later, as she exited the cool interiors of the Command Center and emerged into the bright Serricci sunshine, Leia congratulated herself on how well she'd maintained an even tone of voice and a calm demeanor, despite the writhing knot of anxiety she felt in the pit of her stomach over the unknown fate of the _Millennium Falcon_ and her crew.

As she strode along the packed-dirt road that led from the central base to the _Stellaria_ 's distant landing field, she squinted against the powerful mid-morning sun, and battled her rising fear.

 _Three days. It's not that long. They'll be back soon. They're fine._

The mantra did little to soothe her feelings, though, and she was painfully aware that she needed to prepare herself for the worst. In the seven months since Han and Chewie had begun working for the Alliance, they'd taken their fare share of mundane supply runs and personnel transfers, but they'd also taken on many of the riskier missions. That was mainly because the heavily modified _Falcon_ could outrun most Imperial ships, and the two pilots were exceptionally gifted at their jobs. They were also very willing to circumvent and undermine the Empire's authority at every opportunity. All of that made them valuable assets. But it also put them in very real danger, every time they went out.

 _You knew it was going to be this way, Organa. You_ knew _this is how it could end._

Her most cynical inner voice was doing a good job of drowning out her hopeful mantra, making Leia feel brittle and angry as she stalked along the path towards her destination. Whether they ran into trouble with the Imps and got themselves killed, or whether they finally decided that working for the Alliance was not worth the hassle, the end result would eventually be the same.

 _Sooner or later, they're not coming back._

She'd been telling herself that for two months, ever since the day after her Majority birthday, when she'd made the decision to actively discourage Han's personal interest in her and to curtail her own interest in him. Regardless of the fact she'd scarcely seen him since that day, she realized that she was failing miserably at the latter objective. Although he was easily the most contrary and infuriating man she knew, he was also one of the most intriguing and attractive. And, she had to admit, she missed him.

As that unsettling thought crossed her mind, she arrived at the edge of the landing field where the _Stellaria_ was settling down on the circular landing pad, amidst the creaking groan of metal struts and the hiss of hydraulics. Leia tried to clear her mind of worry over the _Falcon_ and went to greet Captain Jor Angepeo.

The Iktotchi captain was already beginning to organize the offloading of the _Stellaria_ 's cargo even as Leia approached and, for a while, she was absorbed in the business of debriefing the crew, making notes, and directing the distribution of the supplies they'd acquired on Carratos. Then Officer Tibbert arrived to begin transferring the cargo onto the trolley, and Leia's work was done. She said her farewells to her colleagues and turned to head back to the Command Center, lowering her head against the relentless late-morning sun.

As she trudged across the broad landing field towards the edge of the clearing that adjoined the main base road, her thoughts reverted to the missing _Millennium Falcon_ and her crew. Mixed in with the worry, she felt a pang of regret over how she'd left things with Han two months before.

The difficulty with Han, as Leia saw it, was that he'd made it clear on the first day of their acquaintance that he didn't care about the rebellion against the Empire—the one thing that mattered _most_ to Leia, the only thing that had kept her on her feet after the loss of Alderaan, and the deaths of her entire family and virtually every friend she'd ever known. And although he'd stopped repeating that particular sentiment in recent months, he continued to stubbornly turn aside all efforts to recruit him to the cause, citing other obligations—including a worrying bounty on his head—that would eventually lead him to give up his contract with the Alliance and disappear.

And it was mainly for that reason that she'd begun a strategic withdrawal from his company—declining invitations to dinner aboard the _Falcon_ , which she'd previously enjoyed; trotting out her coolest diplomatic demeanor whenever she couldn't avoid running into him on base; and delegating the task of dispatching and greeting the _Falcon_ as it came and went from Serricci on Alliance business. Alarmed by her growing attraction and attachment to someone who was obviously _entirely_ unsuitable, she'd been determined to revert their relationship back to what it had been in the beginning—strictly business, and nothing more. But, although she'd congratulated herself on her ability to put some professional distance between them, she knew in her heart that she was only trying to protect herself from the pain of loss, and that in itself was a hollow victory.

And now she was faced with the distinct possibility that something worse might have happened—something worse than Han merely flying off for more lucrative employment. Perhaps the exchange on Onderon had gone bad, or maybe one of Jabba the Hutt's bounty hunters had caught up with him. Maybe he was dead, and Chewbacca with him. It would explain the complete lack of communication from them over the past three days.

As painful as that idea was to contemplate, Leia knew that it was among the scenarios that she needed to consider. But, although she'd tried to prepare herself for that grim possibility, too, she hadn't counted on the ache in her gut, or the heavy weight of guilt she felt at having authorized them for the mission. She felt a similar sense of responsibility for all of the contractors she supervised, every time she dispatched them, but she knew in her heart that this was different. This was the _Falcon_ , and Han and Chewie were her friends.

As she pondered over that truth, she suddenly felt foolish for having avoided them both for so long, and for such a silly reason. Han's flirting wasn't anything she couldn't handle, she told herself, and it didn't really matter that he clearly wanted something more to develop between them. She'd made up her mind about that, and made it clear to him where she stood. That was no reason to avoid him altogether, or to deprive herself of his company—and Chewie's—for the sake of dodging his suggestive comments and avoiding his speculative gaze. The truth was, she'd missed them both, and she'd especially missed their regular get-togethers with Luke aboard the _Falcon_ , where they could all forget for an evening that they were at war, and simply enjoy the pleasures of good food and good company. Both General Rieekan and her friend Lieutenant Keris Aldric had advised her months ago on the importance of maintaining some sort of balance in her life, and she was beginning to realize they were right.

As she stepped through the tall grass along the edge of the landing field, musing over those thoughts, she became aware that someone behind her was shouting her name. She turned to see one of the _Stellaria_ 's crew waving his arms at her and shouting as he trotted towards her down the landing field. She hurried back in his direction, concerned in case something had gone wrong back at the ship, but then he pulled up within speaking range and gave her a big smile.

"Control contacted our ship to get a message to you," he said, panting lightly in the sweltering heat. He rubbed one arm across his sweaty forehead and gestured back towards the ship. "You left your comlink back at the Command Center, and they were trying to reach you before you walked all the way back."

"What is it?" Leia asked, frowning in concern as she patted her pockets. She realized then that she had, indeed, left her communicator behind. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing's wrong, Your Highness. It's just that General Rieekan wanted you to know that the _Millennium Falcon_ is inbound. They should be planetside any minute now."

-:¦:-:¦:-:¦:-


	2. Chapter 2

**Shipping and Handling**

 **by Susan Zahn and Erin Darroch**

-:¦:-:¦:-:¦:-

"Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow ripening fruit." – Aristotle

-:¦:-:¦:-:¦:-

 **NOTE:** This story is part of the _Kismet_ series. It takes place approximately two months after the events of _Vested Interest_ , so you may wish to read that one first (or check the profile for **suezahn** to view the reading order for the entire Kismet series).

 **Thanks** to YellinYee for the beta.

 **Chapter 2:**

A short time later Leia rounded the corner of the flight line pathway and entered the circular clearing that had become "home" for the _Millennium Falcon_ in the time since they'd established the base. As the familiar features of the old freighter came into view, Leia's sense of relief increased. There didn't seem to be any serious outward damage to the ship—although habit made her muse that it would be hard to tell, considering the normal state of the ship's scored and rusted appearance.

From the angle of her approach, Leia could see that the cockpit was empty, and the boarding ramp was already down. As she hurried closer, she saw the tall, hairy figure of Chewbacca emerge from the ship and stride down the ramp.

"Chewie!" she called out. Heartfelt relief and excitement made her rush forward the last few meters to give him a quick hug. He returned the embrace with one massive, shaggy arm and gave a soft woof in greeting. Leia stood back to take a closer look at the makeshift sling holding his left arm close to his chest, and the bandage wrapped around his right knee. "Are you okay? We've been so worried ever since we received your message but no follow-up."

The Wookiee nodded his big head and rumbled a reply, although the best Leia could do was decipher a word or two of his complex language. Luke seemed so much more adept at picking up the nuances of Chewie's tones which were key to understanding his meaning. She managed to piece together from his gruff vocalizations that something had indeed gone wrong with their mission, a fact that had already become self-evident.

Leia nodded anyway, and scanned his tall frame again. "You're injured. Do you need to go to the Medical Center?"

Chewbacca gave another shake of his russet head, gestured at his injured arm and then growled some more. She got the gist, but not having Han present to translate was frustrating, and that reminder of his absence escalated Leia's concern once again. Above their heads, the _Falcon_ let out a creaking metallic sigh as it continued to settle down into the soft Serricci soil. Leia glanced around the landing pad, and then back up the boarding ramp that Chewie had just descended. Before she could utter the question on her lips, though, Chewbacca chuffed a few more words, then gestured at the boarding ramp. She flashed him a grateful smile, which he returned in Wookiee fashion before moving past her to continue attending to his landing tasks.

Leia strode up the steep incline of the ramp and stepped around the short bend in the circular corridor of the ship, then down into the main hold, only to discover it was empty of its captain and owner. Panels in the walls had been removed to expose electric works, and a large piece of the grated metal decking was lifted up on hinges to reveal more innards of the freighter. She realized at that point that he could be anywhere, and gave in to her impatience to find him. "Han?" she called out.

There was a sharp and loud Corellian curse from deeper within the ship, followed by the muffled reply, "In the bunkroom."

Leia returned to the corridor and followed it around until she reached the open hatch of the bunkroom that served as his quarters. She hesitated a moment and peered in, but still didn't see him. "Where are you?"

"In here." She followed the voice into the cabin, then finally spotted him inside the adjoining fresher. He was bare-chested and standing sideways to her as he leaned over the tiny sink, his arm blocking her view of his face while he used the mirror mounted there to see whatever he was tending to on his forehead.

This wasn't the first time she'd found him without a shirt—not in this jungle atmosphere where the temperature and humidity made living uncomfortable even before breakfast—but the combination of doing so while in his private quarters, and after such a long, self-imposed deprivation of his company, added a new level of distraction. Under normal circumstances she might have enjoyed the surreptitious view of his muscled arms and torso, and how the taut skin over his ribcage moved as he breathed and shifted his stance, but a closer look was all it took to recognize there was nothing normal about this situation. There was an ugly patch of scraped skin along the side of his forearm and a livid bruise on his biceps.

Leia opened her mouth to ask the obvious, but he pre-empted her with a sharp volley of his own. "What are you doing here, Princess?" He didn't bother to look her way.

A little taken aback by the tense welcome, she resorted to sarcasm. "I work here, remember?"

"Coulda fooled me. I figured you'd been transferred to Falleen or something." Han finally spared a glance in her direction, his statement blatantly facetious.

The knee-jerk flash of irritation she always seemed to experience with him evaporated the instant she saw the florid blossom of purple under his right eye, and a bloody cut above his left eyebrow where he'd clearly been attempting to apply a small Bacta patch.

"Goddess! What happened?"

"Long story. Ran into a Weequay bouncer in a portside cantina who didn't appreciate my joke about his short hair braid."

Leia rolled her eyes in exasperation, despite her lingering worry. She knew him well enough to recognize that he wasn't being serious—and that his humor probably disguised genuine concern. "We got the message from Chewie that something had gone wrong, and then...nothing."

Han grunted in acknowledgement, still focused on trying to make the Bacta patch adhere to his skin, despite the fact that the cut continued bleeding freely.

"For _three days_ ," Leia added, with emphasis.

"Couldn't be helped, Your Worship. We got separated and I couldn't get to the _Falcon_ until just a few hours ago. Blasted out of there as fast as we could."

"We've been worried sick about you."

"Is that so?" Han sighed and dropped his arms, then turned to face her fully, and she got a look at his bare chest. There was no doubt about it; he'd been involved in some sort of altercation, or more than one—there were scratches and contusions all over him. The cut above his dark eyebrow continued bleeding as she watched, a thin rivulet winding its way down past the corner of his eye. Her instinct was to move toward him, to tend to him, but something held her in place.

"You're still bleeding," she stated the obvious. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine. I just—I'll need some help here. I can't reach this." He pivoted around to show her his back.

Leia gasped when she saw the angry red welt of a blaster burn that stretched across the back of his left shoulder. "You should go to the Medical Center."

"Nah. I've patched up worse than this on my own. This one's just damned awkward."

She muttered an old Alderaanian term once used to describe stubborn beasts of burden, then shook her head. "Alright, well, come out of there so I can get a better look at it."

"Ruined a good shirt," he groused as he obeyed and joined her out in the bunkroom.

Leia stepped over to the bunk adjacent to the fresher and started rummaging through the medkit that lay open there. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied his discarded black vest and a blood-stained white shirt, balled up at the head of the bunk. "Did you take any painkillers already?"

"Nope. No time. We barely got out of there because the _Falcon_ 's forward landing gear failed and it took a couple of tries to get it to retract. Then we spent the entire jump scrambling to get it working in time for us to set down here."

"Do you want something?" 

"Nah, just do what you have to do."

She grabbed the small container of burn salve and turned back to him. "Then this is probably going to sting at first."

"Go ahead."

Leia moved around behind him and paused long enough to study the burn a bit closer first. She winced at the sight of his blistered skin. The injury looked more than a day old, and the skin around the primary wound was worryingly inflamed. It stretched from near the top of his shoulder down the plane of his shoulder blade towards the indentation of his spine. Leia hesitated for a moment, thinking about how close he'd come to dying. If the angle of the blaster shot had been slightly different—if he'd turned a few degrees one way or the other at the crucial moment—he'd be dead. The thought made her stomach clench.

"Are you sure you want me to treat this? You know there's a perfectly good medical center about three hundred meters away from here, right?"

Han craned his neck to look over his shoulder. "Yeah, but Lieutenant Dreis doesn't have your touch." He winked at her and flashed his most charming smile.

Rolling her eyes, Leia motioned with her hand, indicating that he should turn his head back around. "How would you know? I've never treated a wound for you before."

"I have a good imagination."

Leia opted to ignore that laden comment. She eyed the burn again for a moment before twisting open the container and scooping out a generous portion of cooling ointment onto her fingertips. She carefully touched the dollop of cream to the top end of the streak of burned skin. As she'd expected, he flinched away as she heard his a sharp intake of air.

"Sorry. Try to hold still."

The ointment contained a topical anesthetic, and as Leia gently began to smooth the clear salve over the wounded area, she could feel Han beginning to relax beneath her fingers. In the meantime, she was determined to return to business. "You know the drill. I need to know what happened on Onderon, from start to finish."

Han let out a long sigh of relief as the numbness sank in. "We flew in and landed, no problem. That new transponder code worked like a charm. We had time to spare before our meet-up, so Chewie and me decided to check out the closest market for anything interesting. When we got to the rendezvous later on, your guy was waiting for us like he was supposed to. I got the disk. Everything seemed fine." He drew in another tired breath and let it out. "Then, on the way back to the _Falcon_ , I had to swing back through the Ardymion district to pick something up, but it wasn't ready yet, so Chewie went on ahead of me."

"Ardymion? The garment district? Is _that_ where you get all those fashionable black vests?"

"Nice."

Leia smirked behind his back, still carefully smoothing the healing ointment along the length of the burn. "Sorry. Continue."

"I finished in Ardymion and was nearly to the port when I ran into a squad of stormtroopers who seemed to be on the lookout for someone matching my description. _That_ was exciting. Two of them almost got Chewie, too, but he managed to deal with them and get to the _Falcon_ before the local authorities sealed all entrances into the port facilities. I didn't, so I was stuck."

"Sounds like our Onderon contact was compromised," Leia observed grimly.

"Yeah, I'd say so." He paused for a moment, then turned his head to speak over his shoulder again. "Want my take on it?"

"Of course."

"Assuming they haven't picked him up or he isn't dead already, I don't think he knows. Probably doesn't realize he's being monitored. Obviously whoever was watching him saw our meeting and called in the Imps. I don't think they were expecting us, or even knew who we were, and it was a good thing they had no idea which ship was ours, or we wouldn't be here now."

Leia digested that news as she continued to apply the ointment to his inflamed skin. She didn't ask him to supply reasons for his assertions; she trusted his intuition and good judgement—at least in matters like these. "So you left our contact there and headed through Ardymion, and then….?"

"After I got tagged, I had to hole-up in a public fresher and wait out the lockdown. Chewie and me had our comlinks, so we were in touch with each other, but he couldn't risk more than that one quick transmission to you, in case they were monitoring."

"Well, at least you're both okay," Leia murmured while smearing the last of the cream over his burn. Then she wiped the residue on her trouser leg before resealing the container. She paused and stared at the wound for a moment as the realization hit her that, in his own way, Han _was_ fighting for the same cause she believed in, and that he was in this injured condition because of it. With some discomfort, she acknowledged how absolute her thinking could be at times. Although he continued to refuse an official commission, Han's contributions were nonetheless invaluable, and he was risking as much as anyone else in the fight against the Empire. His bruised and burned flesh was evidence of that. She gave an involuntary wince as she thought again about the other possible outcomes of the mission to Onderon. "This was _close_ , Han. It could easily have been much worse."

Maybe it was her tone of voice, or simply the fact that she'd finished applying the salve, but Han turned completely around to face her then. His hazel eyes sought hers and he offered a faint smile. "I'm fine, Leia."

She nodded and looked away as she replaced the canister in the medkit. "Good. I'm glad."

After a moment, he spoke again and she detected a distinct teasing note in his voice. "So is personally tending to your employees part of your job description now, too?"

Leia paused to meet his gaze once more, attempting to determine the level of acrimony in his direct question, especially when she was sure he already knew the answer. It was obvious he was prodding her again—deliberately drawing attention to the fact that she was giving him special care—and she gave him a hard look, making it clear that she was prepared to walk away at this point if he was going to keep pushing her on that topic. "Would you rather I summoned Lieutenant Dreis, or Two-One Bee?" 

"No." He scanned her face, then flashed her another quick smile. "No, keep going."

"Alright then. Turn around. Let's get a Bacta bandage on that." As he complied and turned his back to her, Leia reached into the medkit for a large pre-packaged healing kit, ripped open the wrapper and unfolded the Bacta-treated pad, then carefully pressed the strip over the length of the burn. While there was some adhesive around the edges, she realized it wasn't likely to stay in place very long in that location by itself.

She returned to the kit and grabbed a big roll of gauze and began unfurling a long strand. "I'm going to have to bind this a bit to keep the entire burn covered. If you want prettier, you know where to go. Hold this," she instructed as she handed him one end of the strip, then continued to unwind the roll as she stepped around him. She wrapped the gauze over the Bacta pad and around his torso, suddenly aware of their proximity as she reached around him to pass the gauze from one hand to the other. Even in his injured state, he exuded a masculine power that she found highly distracting. She moved with quick efficiency to loop the gauze under the horizontal binding and draw it up and over his shoulder before securing the other end at the back.

When she finished, she took a step back to eye her makeshift creation. "You should have it redressed tomorrow, but I think it'll be fine. Don't sleep on it."

Han turned again to face her, and Leia saw that the cut above his eyebrow was still oozing blood. The rivulet of red that was trickling down the outer corner of his eye and weaving through the stubble on his cheek was about to start dripping off his jaw.

"Goddess, but you're a mess. You're still bleeding."

"Those always look worse than they are."

"But this cut looks fresh."

"That's because it _is_ fresh. I was pulling out the medkit and whacked my head on the blasted locker door when you called my name."

"Oh. Sorry about that," Leia granted with honest remorse before nodding toward the bunk. "Well, I can't reach it properly with you standing up, so go sit."

Han sank down on the bunk next to the medkit, and she left him there for a moment while she went into the fresher, grabbed a clean hand towel and held it under the water tap to get it wet, then returned. She paused in front of him, however, not entirely sure of the best way to approach this next task. With him seated now, their height difference was reversed and she could easily view the damage to his handsome face as he gazed up at her. She took a step closer, between his knees, and summoned a monumental effort to focus on her task. She was perfectly aware that if he'd been any other contractor there would have been no question of tending to him herself; she'd have sent him to the Medical Center, or left him to his own devices. Furthermore, she knew that Han was perfectly aware of that fact, too, but she hoped he had the good sense to keep his mouth shut. She was at war with herself, and she didn't need him to point out the obvious inconsistencies in her behavior.

And he _was_ being remarkably compliant, but that fact made her feel both grateful and a little wary. Determined to ignore how intently he was watching her, she began dabbing at the cut on his forehead, cleaning away the blood so she could get a better look. He winced a little as she continued to gently probe the spot, testing to see if the cut was beginning to show signs of clotting up. Then she reached for a small square of medical gauze, pressed it over the wound and directed Han to hold it in place.

"Yes, it's not as bad as it looks. I don't think it'll leave a scar."

"Too bad. I was hoping for one to match my chin."

The very mention of the distinctive and intriguing scar on his chin was enough to make Leia's eyes drop down to that spot. It wasn't the first time she'd been fascinated by the thin ridge of pale scar tissue that slanted across Han's chin, but she covered up her interest by taking a clean portion of the wet towel and rubbing at the trickle of blood on his cheekbone before it could dry. She could feel his steady gaze on her as she worked, and was vexed to feel a warm flush rising to her cheeks. A corner of his mouth twitched, as if he were hiding a smile.

"Are you trying to distract me…?" she asked, knowing full well her question was rhetorical. Of course he was. She reached for one of the smaller self-adhesive Bacta patches and ripped open the outer packaging.

"You look pretty...distracted."

Leia noticed the deliberate pause between words and gave him an amused roll of her eyes as she nudged his hand out of the way and applied the Bacta patch over the cut. Apparently, two months hadn't been long enough to dull his flirtatious instincts. Not at all. But ultimately she'd take Teasing Han over Surly Han any day.

 _Nothing I can't handle_ , she reminded herself.

"Alright, Captain," she said as she swabbed the last trace of drying blood from his jaw and took a step back to look him up and down. The rest of his injuries were relatively minor and, in any case, he could reach those himself. "I think you'll do."

Leia caught the flicker in Han's expression that said he had another quip ready to respond to that, but he didn't speak it. Instead, he simply eyed her thoughtfully and chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched her clear away the bloody swabs and empty packaging. She was aware of his gaze tracking her movements as she stepped into the fresher to dispose of the waste and to wash her hands, and he continued to watch her after she returned to the bunk to begin packing up the medkit.

"So," Han ventured at length, leaning in to catch her eye as she rolled up the remaining gauze and stuffed it back into the kit. "Does this mean we're still friends?"

Leia gave him a sharp glance, and returned to her task. "Of course. That hasn't changed."

"Hasn't it? I've barely seen you in two months." His tone was mild, softening the edge of his words. "If I'm gonna have to go missing for several days and get banged up like this just so you'll come talk to me, I'm gonna need a bigger medkit. "

"You've been on one mission after another lately, Han. You've hardly been here at all."

"Right. And you've arranged for either Lumey or Sommerlin to dispatch and meet me _every time_ ," he pointed out.

"I've been busy!"

"Leia."

His use of her name drew her eyes back to his and she felt her pulse race as they skated close to the edge of the contention between them.

 _If he pushes it, I swear I'm going to—._

Before she could complete her thought, though, he flashed her a smile and changed the subject. "I've got something for you."

Looking away, he twisted slightly on the bunk, then stretched over to snag his discarded vest from the top edge. When he straightened up and shook the garment out by the shoulders, she could see that the back of it was in ruins, a scorched and ragged tear showing through the black fabric.

"We came across some Sacorrian silverleaf in the local farmer's market the day we got to Onderon," Han said casually while fishing around in the vest's inner pockets for something. "There's a pile of it in the galley, and Chewie says he's cooking _sahbiye_ tonight. You coming?"

As he spoke, he withdrew a small, unmarked data disk from a vest pocket and extended it to her. She took it with murmured thanks, and tucked it into her own pocket. Lifting her eyes, she saw that he was waiting for an answer.

Leia had no intention of refusing, but she was aware nevertheless of a faint flutter in her stomach as she considered his invitation. She'd finally acknowledged, at least to herself, that she genuinely missed his company, and longed for a return of the easy camaraderie they'd found in their evening get-togethers with Luke and Chewie. But the very fact that she'd just personally tended to his wounds, when she could have—and probably should have—sent him to the medical center, forced Leia to admit that she harbored feelings for him that extended well beyond mere friendship. On the other hand, there was also the niggling reminder at the back of her mind that, although Han clearly had no intention of abandoning his charming, maddening campaign to seduce her, he also had no intention of sticking around. Not forever. Not even for very long. For Leia, they remained at a clear impasse.

 _No. It's just dinner, Organa. Like all the dinners before. Dinner with friends._

Han's low voice interrupted her thoughts. "Chewie's a big sap, you know," he informed her dryly. "If you keep avoiding him, you're gonna hurt his feelings. And there's nothing worse than a morose Wookiee."

Leia rolled her eyes once again, but she couldn't quite fight the smile she felt tugging at the corner of her mouth as she looked at him.

"Yes, of course, I'll come," she told him. "Thank you."

Leia was ready to swear on the Goddess herself that there was a sudden twinkle of triumph in his hazel eyes when he smiled up at her then, and she felt her pulse race a little faster.

 _Why do I keep thinking that managing this man will be easy?_

Dropping her gaze, Leia took a step back from the bunk and turned towards the hatch, preparing to take her leave.

"One more thing, Sweetheart." Han stood up and crossed the small space to rummage through a large leather satchel that sat on the opposite bunk. After a moment, he withdrew a medium sized paper-wrapped parcel and handed it over, a faint smile behind his eyes.

Leia weighed the light package in her hands, feeling the soft contours of what felt like fabric through the thin wrappings.

"What's this?"

"It's your Majority gift. I told you I'd give you a real one."

Leia had a sudden, vivid recollection of the kiss he'd given her in lieu of a birthday present two months before, and her stomach fluttered again. She pressed her lips together and looked down at the parcel in her hands, hoping to hide the renewed flush she could feel warming her cheeks. She felt a wave of embarrassment that the memory of that single, chaste kiss still had the power to affect her, and her self-consciousness only doubled when she realized that it was probably written all over her face.

She might have protested that the gesture was unnecessary, or that he needn't have bothered, but he seemed pleased to offer it, and Leia had been brought up to be gracious. She lifted her eyes to his and said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." If Han noticed her consternation, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he indicated with a gesture that Leia should precede him through the open hatch, and then he followed her as she made her way through the _Falcon_ 's hold and around the ring corridor towards the boarding ramp. He stopped at the entrance, and leaned one hand against the frame as he watched her descend the ramp.

"Hey, Leia," Han called out just as she was reaching the bottom. He waited for her to stop and turn to look up. "Thanks for the patch-up."

Leia had every intention of replying with a quip about his propensity for getting into trouble, but the way he was smiling at her and the way he looked as he leaned against the bulkhead made her give up on the attempt. Instead, she simply smiled back, gave him a nod, then turned away and started walking across the landing field toward the road that led back to the Command Center.

The instant she left the shade of the _Falcon_ 's hull, the power of the Serricci mid-day sun hit her full force, and she didn't bother stifling a groan. She tucked her Majority gift under her arm and plucked at the front of her uniform top, which was already clinging to her skin in the heavy humidity.

 _Is it just me, or is this place getting hotter?_

 **The End**


End file.
